


Unmakes the Man

by Chichirinoda



Category: The Big O
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-17
Updated: 2009-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichirinoda/pseuds/Chichirinoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A smutty little something, human on robot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmakes the Man

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday fic for Panther Dragon. Only slightly belated XDDD

_The machine unmakes the man.  
\-- Ralph Waldo Emerson_

Her skin was warm. He had expected it to be cold, though he didn't know why, since he'd held her and been held by her before, been thrown into close proximity by necessity. But perhaps he had thought it was the heat of battle that accounted for it, and not some quirk of her construction.

She didn't feel quite human, though, despite the welcoming heat that radiated from her skin. The texture of it was a little too smooth, a little too perfect. Her fingers were too strong, though she touched him with almost trembling gentleness.

It was strange to feel that she feared to break him.

But strange or not, the skin of her inner thighs was soft under his fingertips, and if she didn't produce quite as much lubrication as he was used to, it didn't much matter. He knew, at least, that it would take more than his paltry strength to damage her.

Her skirt rode up reluctantly, ruffles bunching and always in the way, but it was only a small distraction compared to the small upturn of her lips, and the way her eyes softened as she looked up at him. Those were precious details, made huge under his eager eyes, searching for any sign of reaction in the impervious face.

Somehow, her voice seemed less flat now as she whispered his name. "Roger..." though there was nothing of the tremble that was in his own voice as he murmured hers in return.

She unmanned him completely, as he thrust into her, helpless in her grasp even though he was the one who had pressed her down, the one who had finally given way to the desire they both felt. He might have thought she orchestrated the whole thing, if it weren't for the slight widening of her eyes, and the bare veneer of uncertainty that entered her voice when he drew her down onto the bed and kissed her.

She shuddered, and he wondered if she felt the sensations pounding through her the way he did. But then her body clenched around him, so very human, and that drove all thought out of his mind completely. He held her tight and cried out with all-too-human abandon as he spilled himself inside her body and collapsed against her, panting, sweating, while her fingers moved through his mussed hair and held him against her with implacable strength.

"Roger," she whispered, no hint of breathlessness in her own voice.

"Mmm? Yes, Dorothy?" he somehow managed to speak past his own gasps for breath.

"You louse," she murmured. "You stained my dress."

He laughed softly and apologized, kissing her faintly smiling lips and promising to undress her properly the next time.


End file.
